


Someday, Somehow

by OniX



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Destiel - Freeform, M/M, at least in the first chapters, violence but not that much
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-11
Updated: 2013-12-11
Packaged: 2018-01-04 08:48:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1078978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OniX/pseuds/OniX
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is appreciated and award-winning lieutenant. He's serving his country that is, in his own words, "fucked up beyond belief". The government is killing people mercilessly to keep the growing population of one, big country under control, soldiers kill people for fun. At first Dean just tried to stay out of trouble, but when his little brother Sam starts working with an underground resistance-movement, Dean joins to be able to keep an eye on Sam. </p>
<p>Abducted by the resistance-movement, about to die, Dean is saved. A man whose life he once spared returns the favor and they form an unlikely friendship. But when faith seems to be determined to keep them apart and doom the whole planet, will they be able to find each other in the chaos?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Someday, Somehow

**Author's Note:**

> Look at that, I actually wrote a summary. Yay, me. Anyway, here goes the first chapter, and seen as I'm not native English speaker, please tell if you spot any mistakes! 
> 
> Name from Nickelback song called Someday.

_"You go check that house, Winchester!"_

_"Yes, sir!"_

_The sound of machine-guns and people screaming and crying; the sun shining brightly; smoke clouding the village; people running; blood everywhere.  
Dean kicked open the door with so much force that it banged closed right after him. Before Dean knew it, he was face to face with someone. Another inhabitant of this damned village. Dean could see fear in his eyes. He wasn't much older than Dean, around 17, he had bright blue eyes, messy brown hair. There was blood on his face. He looked like he could be related to the family Dean had just watched die. _

_Dean remembered the five years old boy trying to shelter his little brother. The pregnant mother holding two girls in her lap, one of them resting their hand on her stomach. The silent tears on the little brothers face as he looked at Dean from under his big brother's arms. His friends laughing and firing. How they continued after everyone was dead. The little girl's body twitching when bullets hit her._

_Dean dropped his gun. It hanged on from the strap attached to it and thrown behind Dean's neck. Dean grabbed the guy's arm and dragged him upstairs. Dean pushed open a door, fired until everything was broken, then pushed the guy into the closet. Dean stuck his water bottle to the guy's hands._

_"Stay here. Don't come out before we've left. I'm so sorry."_

_Dean ran out. When he was running down the stairs, the door opened._

_"Did you get anyone?"_

_"No, empty."_

_"Come on, then. There are still few families alive, we've got to shoot them. I can spare few for you."_

_Dean ran._  
~ 

Dean fixed the medal above his heart. He looked at it for a long time before he let it drop, and it ended up just as lopsided as it was before. Dean ran his fingers through his short, dirty-blonde hair and made sure that the few locks were neatly on the side. Dean straightened his back and pulled down the army-green jacket. His eyes found the golden medal again. 

For serving the country, it said. And it was golden. It meant that it was the highest possible medal in existence,since gold was rare and expensive now. Dean had got it when they murdered three villages in row. He was required to keep all of his medals on show, especially in public activities, and seen as he was in high position, he had to keep it on. Every day. Every single day Dean had to just look down and he would be reminded of how he took part in murdering over thousand innocent people. Dean hated it. He hoped he could erase it, change it. But he couldn't. He was a murderer, no matter what he did. 

Dean heard a knock on the door. It opened and Dean turned to see Laura and behind her, Sam. Laura jumped in and ran to Dean. Her shiny blonde hair was wavy and free, hanging on her shoulders. 

"Look at you", Laura chirped. Dean's head ached. 

"You are handsome", Laura said. She stepped closer, heels clicking, and she straightened the awful medal. 

"Thanks, you look good too", Dean forced himself to say. She giggled. They kissed quickly and then she finally left. Sam stepped in, closing the door. Dean turned back to the mirror. 

"We're helping people, you know", Sam said quietly. You could think he was one of those brainless soldiers defending their work, but Dean knew he wasn't. 

"Yeah", Dean said. 

"The speech will go well", Sam said. He patted Dean's shoulder and leaned to Dean's big table. Dean turned to him. 

"I don't give a rat's ass about the speech", he mumbled. Sam sighed and crossed his arms. 

"This is the best we can do, Dean. We can't save everyone", he said. Dean grabbed his mic and attached it to his collar. He walked past Sam. 

"You coming or not?" 

Sam sighed deeply. He pushed himself off of the table and walked out, probably giving up on trying to help Dean. He knew how much Dean hate himself, but there was nothing he could do. Dean wouldn't change. He was hopeless, he knew it, and he did what he could to make up for all bad he had caused. Dean fixed the gun he had hanging by his hip and adjusted the jacket over it. Dean pulled out the few slips of paper he had. He followed Sam through the huge building until they were behind the stage. It opened to the giant square that was now filled with people. They were all here to listen to Dean talk about something boring about their fucked-up country. 

Dean read through what he had written. It was total bullshit and written sarcastically, but no one got it. Sam thought it was too risky and that he should tone it down a bit, but Dean hated this country. How it worked. How people thought. He wrote everything so over the top that he was surprised that no one had critized him. But that's how they were, they thought he was serious. That's how hypnotized and brain-washed everyone was here. 

Dean waited in the room. He stood by the door, ready to go. When the green light lit up and the room echoed with alarm, Dean started to walk. He rushed up the stairs, put on his most charming smile and stepped on the outer stage. Wind was cool and gentle and it ruffled up his hair a bit. People screamed. Dean's head hurt even more. He wished this was over already. Dean set his papers down on the small table and stepped behind it. He heard the mic go on. He looked up and smiled. 

"Welcome, citizens!" 

Cheering. _Shut up._

"I am glad to see so many of you here, celebrating our mighty country!" 

_Just go fucking home and stay there._

"Today, I am here to talk about a very important thing. It is choosing our next ruler." 

"You!" someone screamed and got huge applauds. 

"No, no", Dean faked a laugh. "Thank you but I'm not stepping up this year." 

Disappointed sounds. 

"But now. What we need is a ruler who knows what's going on." 

_Fucking no one._

"Someone who can stop madness from spreading." 

_I'm not talking about the rebellion._

"Someone who understands you, citizens, and what you need." 

_Which isn't more murdering that you don't know about._

But just as Dean was starting his next sentence, something happened. His mic went off. The big screen that had been zoomed to his face, went off too. Dean turned around. The next thing on the screen wasn't his face, but a bright red background and a black text. It said: you don't know everything. 

Small smile curled his lips. But then, something he just didn't expect. Someone got on the stage. And he wasn't from the government, Dean knew that much. Before Dean could think, there was a gun pointed at him. The people gasped and started to move nervously. Okayy, Dean's next move. He could either risk his life and try to pull out his gun, or he could wait and see what would happen. Apparently neither, since all of sudden, he was surrounded by guns. Dean's instincts took over. He turned so that he could see Sam, who was standing there with a phone. Dean nodded. Sam backed off so that he couldn't be seen and Dean saw him lift the phone to his ear. 

"Do you want me to come with you?" Dean asked. He realized the screen changed, showing what he had just said. He shifted a little. The first guy, dressed in black, face covered, nodded. 

"Okay, I'll come. Don't start shooting." 

The screen showed it. His ear-piece was blowing up with staff protesting, saying the people wouldn't like it, he should wait, it didn't matter if they started shooting. Dean ripped it off. He followed the guy and soon he was surrounded by dozen guys all dressed in black. With guns of course. Dean just followed and no guard dared to shoot. He was led to an aircraft and to a small room. He was pushed down on his knees on the floor as the craft took off. Dean had a feeling he was on the screen again. 

This one guy stepped ahead from the crowd. He walked in front if what Dean suspected to be a camera. He confirmed it by pulling off the piece of black fabric covering his face. 

"Hello, citizens", the guy started. "I am Castiel." 

He turned sideways so that the camera could film Dean. Dean looked up to this Castiel, not saying anything. Castiel looked down. And the second their eyes met, Dean wanted to curse. 

It was him. _Him._ The man who haunted Dean in his nightmares, when he was awake. Every second of his life. And Dean could see his eyes widen too. Dean had been covered in mud and blood and his face had been half-hidden. 

"You all love him very much, don't you?" Castiel asked, his voice soft. Dean had an idea what was going to happen. The people let his loved family be murdered, so he would murder Dean. 

"I know why. He's a good man, right? Good man in a wrong place." 

Dean swallowed. But this was just past catching up. What he had done... It would all come back to him. 

"We all know what happened four years ago, exactly four years ago. We all know how many people died. No one dares to say a word, but now it's time." Castiel pointed a finger at the camera. "You know what happened. You watched it happen. You could have stopped it, but none did. And you know what? The same thing is happening all over the planet, on this second, millions get murdered. And what do you do? You stand there safely thinking of the next man or woman who'll murder next million people." 

Silence. Dean waited. 

"Don't let it happen. Because when they're done with people outside this city, they'll move to people inside this city. You are next victims." 

Distant screaming. 

"What comes to him..." 

Dean looked up. Castiel pointed the gun at him. 

"I owe you something." 

Dean felt his eyes drop. 

There was a soft click.


End file.
